


Will You Do Something?

by shipsdrifting



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Reality TV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 01:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7412545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipsdrifting/pseuds/shipsdrifting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis needs a fake date. Harry may regret agreeing to help.</p><p> </p><p>Based on the hidden-camera show <i>What Would You Do?</i>, which sets up fake scenarios in which the actors do something strange or inappropriate in a public place, in order to see how bystanders intervene or speak up. (It often, but not always, involves someone discriminating against a minority-group person, with both played by actors). In particular, this story is based on <a href="https://gma.yahoo.com/video/fake-date-001436165.html"> this </a> humorous segment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Will You Do Something?

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t actually know anything about producing or reality TV. Sorry if there are problems resulting from my ignorance.

_“The curly-haired guy,”_ Zayn’s voice comes in through Louis’ discreet little in-ear. _“Long brown hair. Next to the blond quiffy guy at the bar. Let’s try him.”_

Louis surreptitiously glances around the room until his gaze settles on a blond head beside a mop of brown curls. He can’t see either of their faces from his station by the door, but they look like they’re having a good time, the brunette’s head thrown back in laughter.

“Alright, got it,” Louis agrees, speaking quietly into the little microphone hidden in his t-shirt.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Zayn responds.

Louis grins and takes a breath. He lifts his cell phone and presses it to his ear. It’s show time.

So maybe this job isn’t precisely what Louis had always envisioned when he dreamt of becoming a famous actor. But acting on the candid hidden camera show _Will You Do Something?_ is a pretty good gig. For one thing, he’s basically being _paid_ to play pranks on people, something he would gladly do for free every single day in high school. But this show is also more than that. They deal with real social issues, and the scenarios they create educate real people, viewers of all ages who might otherwise not have thought about racism or ableism or homophobia. The show actually _means_ something; they get enough letters and emails every season to assure him of that. And for that, he feels proud of his job.

The segment they’re filming today, though, falls more into the category of a fun social experiment than anything serious. Louis has spent the whole day frantically convincing random strangers to pose as his romantic partner during an increasingly awkward meal with his “mother,” who is played by his incomparable costar Marge. The scenario includes a series of questions about their sex life, her health problems (Louis’ partner is purportedly a gastroenterologist), and a host of other uncomfortable and amusing topics. Of course, unbeknownst to his innocent recruits, the whole thing is being filmed through hidden cameras spread throughout the restaurant, and an entire film crew is watching from the room downstairs. When the encounter becomes too unbearable, Zayn and the other producers call it off, Liam swoops in with the camera crew, and everyone learns the truth and has a good laugh.

Louis strides with purpose toward the target at the bar. “She’s going to be here any minute,” he hisses into his cell phone. He rubs at his forehead for good measure. “You _said_ you’d be here. You promised you’d come meet her.” The curly guy hasn’t turned around, but he must have heard Louis by now. He’s speaking loudly enough. “What am I supposed to do? You can’t make it even for five minutes?” Louis pauses and schools his voice away from anger and more toward resigned despair. “Ugh, okay. No, it’s fine. I’ll figure something out. See you tonight.” He lets his hand fall to his side with a thud, slides the phone into his pocket, and slumps down into the chair. Then, as if struck by an idea, he sits up and lets his gaze fall to the side of Curly’s head three seats over. He stands up again and takes a breath.

“Um. Excuse me,” he taps Curly on the shoulder.

“Yes?” Curly turns around, and – okay, this isn’t fair. Zayn really should have given him a warning. He’s much more attractive than Louis every would have imagined; Louis isn’t even usually into long hair, but his face makes it work, boyish and smooth with big green eyes and pink lips pursed into the start of a smile. Okay, _focus._

“Hi.” Louis lets out a nervous smile and extends his hand. “I’m Louis.”

“Harry,” He nods. His voice is deep _,_ rumbly. _Focus,_ Louis reprimands himself once more. Harry takes his hand, and Louis shakes it lightly, purposely distractedly, before taking another breath and running a hand through his hair.

“So this is actually really embarrassing,” he starts, “but just – my boyfriend was supposed to come here to meet me – well, to meet my mother for the first time. But he just had to cancel at the last minute.”

“Okay?” Harry looks confused, but a little sympathy is already showing in his eyes. It’s a good sign. Louis grimaces.

”I _promised_ that she’d be meeting him today. She’s been nagging me for weeks, and now…” He looks up, cranking his puppy-dog eyes to their full power. “Is there any way you wouldn’t mind pretending to be my boyfriend, just for a few minutes?”

“Um.” is all Harry says. He furrows his eyebrows, and that bit of hesitation is all Louis needs for total confidence that Harry is going to do it.

He jumps back in, speaking quickly. “I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t desperate. Just ten minutes,” Louis pleads. “That’s all. I’ll help you out and everything, it’ll be easy, I promise.”

Harry swallows visibly, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Behind him, his blond friend appears to be holding back laughter. He touches Harry on the shoulder and beckons him over to whispers something into his ear. Judging by his wan grin and nod, he’s telling Harry to do it.

“Please?” Louis squeaks.

He pauses for a moment. “Oh – oh, okay,” Harry sighs, with a shrug and a small smile. “Why not?” He scratches his neck. “I’m a really bad actor, though, just a warning.”

“That is true,” his friend echoes from behind him.

“That’s fine!” Louis assures him. _Preferable, really,_ he thinks deviously. “I’ll help you. Just - thank you so, so much.”

“ _Marge is going in_ ,” the voice says in Louis’ ear. Louis cranes his neck to look back to where Marge has just walked through the door. “Shit. There she is,” he tells Harry quickly. “Your name is Nick and you’re a gastroenterologist, okay?”

“O-“

Louis spins around just in time to greet her. “Hi, mom!” he says cheerfully, pulling Marge into an embrace. Then he turns to Harry, who has stood up and stepped away from his friend to stand awkwardly by Louis’ side, toes pointing inward. Adorable. “Mom, this is my boyfriend I’ve been telling you about.”

She stares at him for a beat, her features pressed into inscrutable judgment. Marge can be downright scary when she wants to be. Harry is probably terrified. He lifts a hand. “Hi?” he tries nervously.

After a slightly-too-long bout of silence, Marge explodes into a grin. “Oh, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” she gushes. She takes his hand with gusto. “I’m Joann, Lou’s mother.”

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Harry.” Louis bites back a grin. This is _excellent._

“Nick!” Louis laughs pointedly, giving Harry a playful push. He turns to Marge. “Nick’s real name is actually Harold,” he explains, “but he goes by his middle name, Nick, most of the time. Harold Nicholas.” Beside him, Harry has gone beet red. Marge looks between them, nodding with mild confusion and just a hint of underlying amusement.

“Right, right. You can call me Nick,” Harry corrects hurriedly. “I go by Harry sometimes, like, formally. _Nick._ It’s so nice to meet you. Louis has told me so much.”

“Good things, I hope,” she clucks.

“Always, mom,” Louis says with a grin. “Let’s sit over here.” He gestures toward the table they’ve kept reserved all day for this experiment.

The way Harry nearly trips and falls over as he slides into his seat beside Louis, and the way he stutters over the word “gastroenterology” when Louis’ “mom” asks about his profession, almost makes Louis feel bad for him. But Louis knows it’s only going to get worse. He can’t wait.

“So how did you two meet, anyway?” Marge asks. She turns to Harry. “Lou here has never told me.”

“Um.” Harry looks over at Louis for help.

Louis laughs lightly. “Babe, you tell her. You tell the story _so_ much better.“ He ignores Harry’s look of confusion and mild betrayal, and maintains a neutral grin. So much for helping him along.

“Um.” Harry pauses for a long time, nearly too long, until his eyes fall on a spot in the corner of the restaurant. “In the bathroom!” he blurts out, and then he freezes as if realizing how ridiculous that sounds. It’s becoming exceptionally difficult for Louis not to laugh. “I mean, not like - we were just, um – well, it was when we were washing our hands, and he accidentally splashed water at me. And I just said hi, and we started talking. _Afterwards_ , I mean. Not _in_ the bathroom, or anything, just – afterwards.” Louis isn’t sure if Harry’s face will ever return to its natural color again.

“That’s right, we met in a public restroom!” Louis agrees with an enthusiastic and not-entirely-fake laugh. “It was like fate! We got to talking, and he bought me a drink, and the rest is history.” He looks over at Harry with a sweet smile, and Harry attempts to send back the same warm look, but his jaw is clearly clenched with panic even as he smiles through it.

Marge laughs. “Well, you’re lucky. He’s a cute one,” she says.

Harry grins at the compliment, dimples popping out the side of his mouth. _Dimples._ It might be the first time Louis has seen him relax since the ordeal began.

“He is,” Louis agrees honestly.

“Very cute.” She raises her eyebrows.

“Mom, I know” Louis says with the same fond exasperation he’d use with his real mom. The next words out of her mouth, however, are far from anything his actual mother would ever say.

“I bet the sex is great!” she says loudly, with a bright grin.

“It is,” Louis plays along with a touch of amusement, as if he doesn’t think it’s quite as inappropriate as it actually is. He glances over at Harry, who’s nodding along while pointedly focused on squeezing lemon into his water.

“So tell me,” she continues, lowering her voice and patting at the table directly in front of Harry. Harry looks up, and Marge maintains perfect eye contact while she continues. “Lou here never wants to say. Who’s the pitcher, and who’s the catcher? If you catch my drift?” She waggles her eyebrows, and it takes every ounce of courage in Louis’ heart to not burst out laughing. A few feet away, Harry’s blond friend, who has clearly been eavesdropping, is howling with laughter, nearly crying into his drink.

“Mom!” Louis laughs good-naturedly.

“What? I’m just curious. You never tell me these things.” She turns to look at Harry again, clearly awaiting his response.

It takes a beat for Harry to compose himself. He’s probably not even _into_ guys _._ “Uhm.” He looks at Louis for any sign of what he should say, but Louis gives him nothing. “Um. Sometimes – it goes either way? Uh – yeah. We kind of share that, really.” He nods assuredly.

Incredible. Harry is by far the best subject they’ve had all day. The last two got so flustered and tongue-tied at this point that they had to stop and reveal the prank right here, but Harry just continues on, dogged and earnest.

“ _Now leave the table_ ,” Zayn’s voice instructs in his ear.

This is just cruel. Louis always feels guilty at this part, and Harry’s shocked eyes don’t help matters. Louis rises quickly. “Ah - I’m just going to run to the gent’s,” he says quickly, touching Harry’s arm. He disappears before Harry has time to protest.

Louis actually heads through the door across from the bathrooms so that he ends up in the back room of the kitchen, where they’re all set up with the crew and monitors and equipment. As soon as he arrives, he nearly doubles over in laughter. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen the crew so amused, either. Everyone is trying to hold back laughter, with various degrees of success, as poor Harry trudges through the increasingly uncomfortable questions about her stomach problems (“Tums,” Harry suggests with confidence. “It’s what I prescribe all my patients try first for all their issues.”); her bowel problems (Harry looks appropriately horrified when she offers to show him _pictures_ ); and Harry’s medical training. Marge’s face doesn’t falter once; she truly is a hero. And so is Harry.

Louis can’t deny that he’s a little smitten by Harry’s unwavering earnestness and kindness. He actually reaches out and holds her hand when she starts _crying_ over the fact that her favorite yogurt went out of stock at the supermarket. “I understand,” Harry says sympathetically. “Sometimes I go shopping at night and there are no bananas left.” Maybe Louis can talk to him after they’re done with the show. Maybe, he daydreams, he could even get a _real_ date out of it. They had chemistry together, right?

“Alright, alright, time to go in,” Zayn says from behind him, voice tinged with amusement. “We’ll be following behind you.”

Louis braces himself and trots back into the restaurant with purpose. The palpable relief that sweeps over Harry’s face when he sees him is truly comic.

Louis swoops over to Harry’s side of the table. “Honey, I’ve got to tell you something.”

“Wha-“

That’s when the cameras converge around them, and Liam emerges from the crowd and grins with his typical Liam-esque, comforting smile.

“I’m Liam Payne, and you’re on _Will You Do Something?_ right now. This is all part of a TV show.”

Louis loses it, tears of laughter running down his face. Marge, to her credit, only chuckles as Harry dramatically throws his head into his hands on the table. “I knew it!” he shrieks. “I knew this was all too weird to be real!” He points at Marge, then Louis. “You’re on that show! I’ve _seen_ you!”

Liam laughs along and slowly calms Harry down, and finally he starts going through the followup interview.

“She asked some really private questions. What did you think of that? You were so kind.”

“Oh, I thought – you know, I thought it was pretty strange, but then, everyone is different, right?” He says it slowly, contemplatively, his voice rumbling out of him. “She’s a mother. And I wouldn’t want anyone to treat my mom like a crazy person, even if she was a bit – erm – strange. So I was just acting how I thought anyone should.”

Is it crazy for Louis to be developing a full-blown crush on a guy he only met today in the context of a completely fake and awkward prank interaction? Probably, but that doesn’t prevent the damn butterflies from fluttering in his heart. Harry probably isn’t even _gay._

“That’s a very nice way to think about it. You’re very kind. Is that why you were so quick to agree when Louis asked you to do this?”

“I guess so – I mean, he said it’s only for a few minutes. I know how it is. I was just trying to help out if I could. It’s nice to be nice,” he shrugs with the same dimply grin.

“And what about the fact that our actor was a _man_ asking you to be his date. That didn’t bother you?”

Louis holds his breath as he waits for the answer.

“No,” Harry says, shaking his head slowly. “It didn’t bother me. I think love is love. I did the same thing as if it was a woman asking for the favor.”

And there it is. Harry must be straight. Louis slides back through the crew, not registering the rest of the interview. His cheeks burn in private embarrassment at his assumptions, and he turns quickly to wind through the crew and to the back room.

He’s straight. And besides that, why would he even be interested? He’s probably _taken_ ; how could he not be?

Louis shouldn’t be disappointed. It’s still a fucking hilarious show, and it will probably be a fan favorite for years to come.

They have to wait another hour before the restaurant fills with new patrons so they can start up filming again. Usually they go for a walk or just chill and snack in the mean time. Louis sits in the corner of the room, chewing on the sandwich he brought and sneaking glances at the monitors, to keep an eye on Harry and his friend. Sure enough, a few minutes later a young woman comes in, pecks Harry on the cheek and sits beside him, her hand squeezing his shoulder.

That’s that, then. Louis finishes his sandwich and pretends to play with his phone. He has photos to delete; he’s _not_ moping.

“Hey, Lou.” Zayn jogs up to him. “Surprised you left so fast. I thought you’d want his number or something.” He waggles his eyebrows.

“Ha ha,” Louis deadpans. Was he that obvious?

“No, really,” Zayn goes on. “That’s kinda why I picked him, full disclosure.”

“Guess the joke’s on me then,” Louis rolls his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“I heard his interview, you know.”

Zayn raises a quizzical eyebrow. “Did you? We didn’t know where you’d gone.”

Louis shrugs. “I saw quite enough,” he says decisively and takes a slow swig from his water bottle.

Zayn stares at him for a beat before turning around. “Hey, Andy,” he calls, and Andy looks up from where he’s fiddling with a camera by the spare monitor. “You have the footage from the interview, yeah? Mind playing it?”

“From this one? Sure.”

A moment later, Harry’s face appears on the screen. His mouth is curled into a shining smile as they go through the same questions Louis heard live.

“...love is love. I did the same thing as if it was a woman asking for the favor.”

Harry pauses and looks up the camera, a dimple pressing above his cheeky grin. God, television will _love_ him. They’re going to get fan letters for weeks. “But I mean, the fact that he was _hot_ didn’t hurt his chances. I never can say no to a pretty guy.”

Louis nearly spits out his water.

“Aww,” screen-Liam laughs, and then he looks around before shooting Harry a conspiratorial grin. “We’ll let him know you said that.”

“Please do!” A voice pipes up, Harry’s blond friend from behind the bar waggling his eyebrows over Harry’s shoulder.

“Niall!” He laughs, and the scene devolves into mindless laughter and chatter. None of this is going to make it to television, of course, but right now that doesn’t matter.

Harry might possibly, probably be interested in men. Harry might possibly, probably be interested in _Louis_.

Then something else sinks into the pit of his stomach.

Harry might possibly, probably have already left the restaurant.

“Oh, god,” he scrambles. He desperately examines the monitor screen for the camera watching the bar, but sure enough, Harry is gone. For a moment Louis has the good sense to hasten a glance at the other screens. He finds the one for the camera pointed at the front of the house, and he thinks, _thinks,_ that he catches a glimpse of brown curls swooping out of the frame.

Louis has never moved so fast in his life. He runs of the room and races through the restaurant, nearly knocking out a server in the process, before slamming out the door. He glimpses a bleach-blond head half a block away, and he sprints down the sidewalk. He’s out of breath by the time he catches up with them.

“Harry,” he says, although it comes out more like a pant. Harry turns around, eyebrows furrowed.

“Louis?”

“Harry, I – “ it takes him a moment to realize he doesn’t know _what_ to say. He never thought this far. And just because a guy’s gay doesn’t mean he’s actually interested. He was probably just hamming it up for the camera. “I just wanted to say goodbye,” he says weakly. “And thanks. You did great.”

“Oh. Okay,” Harry blinks slowly, but doesn’t break eye contact.

“And I was wondering,” Louis continues. In for a penny, in for a pound and all that. “I don’t really know anything about you, and I know the circumstances are kinda – strange - but I was wondering, if you’re single and you’re interested, if you might like to go out sometime? For real?”

Harry doesn’t respond for a moment. He narrows his eyes at Louis and looks around them. “Is this part of the show again? Are you filming what people do if you ask them out again _after_ putting them through an awkward fake date with your fake mother?”

God, what was Louis _thinking?_ “No, no – sorry.” He holds up his hands. “No cameras out here, I promise. They’re only in the restaurant. And I’m sorry about that. I mean, I hope it didn’t bother you, and really, you were great. And – never mind what I just said. Forget it. I’ll let you go. Thanks again.”

“Wait,” Harry stops him. “I’m just kidding.” He grins, bites his lip. “You didn’t think I’d let you off that easy, did you?”

“Erm, no.” Louis lets out a weak laugh. He waits, hopeful, impatient.

“And yes.”

“Yes?” Louis bounces on his heels. He can’t help it.

“Yes, Louis Tomlinson, I would love to go out with you.“

“Ye - wait,” Louis narrows his eyes. “How did you know my last name?”

“Um.” Harry’s mouth twists into a grimace.

“He googled you as soon as you left!” Niall pipes up with a gleeful cackle.

“ _Niall!”_ Harry exclaims, nudging his side before turning to Louis, sheepish. “Uh, yes,” he shrugs, “I may have possibly googled you in the restaurant. Well, I googled the show, and then I found you, and. And, um, if you don’t think that’s creepy, I would love to go out with you sometime?”

Louis laughs. “As an actor, it’s actually pretty flattering,” he says. “And as a person… who am I kidding, as a person I also think it’s flattering.” He holds out his phone. “Trade numbers?”

“That,” Harry starts slowly - and by the tone of his voice and his little grin, Louis should have known what he was going to say next – “is _something_ I _will_ do _."_


End file.
